Steps Stained Black

If you happened past the presidents circle steps
On the right November day,
You saw the left over candles
And the remainder of loving sentiment
Resting on the darkened steps.

To you, he may have only been a classmate
Or a kid whose math homework you graded--
A face in the crowd you never recognized whose soul you never spoke to.
For some, he was a tragedy that had us calling our loved ones
And staying up with the news 'til 4 AM only to see tomorrow rescheduled out of respect.

Not knowing his name before
Didn't prevent a tear shed
Any more than it did the pulling close of loved ones,
In fear they might not be there every future day,
In a solace so somber they weren't today's hallowed one.

To those who knew him, he was a friend--a best friend--and a virtuous man.
He was a son, an elder, and a saint.
A scholar in the making, a walking inspiration, a burning example of what a person should be.
But now, the flames are gone.

Though his legacy yet remains in memories
Like a fresh wound waiting to scar,
Here's to his vigil
Which left us with anything but just hardened wax, a half raised flag, and the marble steps stained black.

In memory of ChenWei Guo